The Cinderella Project (A Comedy of Love, #1) (10 page)

“Ah,” I said, reading between the lines. “
You
see the good, charming, decent guy that’s really buried deep inside him, don’t you?”

She recoiled and shot me a scowl. “Do you make it a habit of psychoanalyzing strangers?”

I shrugged. “No offense. Just testing what information I’ve gathered.”

“So now I’m not a stranger; I’m a guinea pig?”

I chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to invade your personal life. And hey, just to show I’m a nice guy, this session was free of charge.”

She chuckled through her pout. “I’m sorry. It’s just, well… some guys need help, you know?”

I nodded and watched other couples take to dancing.

“Hunter’s one of them. To be honest, most of the girls who I’ve seen him with, well … they’re the kind that prefer coming out only at night, if you know what I mean.”

“Enough said.”

“Sometimes,” she said sadly, “I tell myself it’s just the way he is. But that’s not right. He can always make his own choices.”

“Yes, though I’m not sure I approve of all of them.” I looked meaningfully at where Hunter and Ella were dancing.

“She’s absolutely lovely, by the way,” Jamie said wistfully, nodding appreciatively at Ella. “I wish
I
could look even
half
that good. A dress like that wouldn’t even stay up on this kind of a figure.”

Hunter and Ella were now close enough to share air, staring at each other a little too much for my liking.

I glanced at Jamie. “If you’ll excuse me….”

“Yeah. Nice meeting you.”

I left her with a “You too,” as I made my way to the dance floor.

Neither Hunter nor Ella so much as twitched their eyes my way. The first song stopped and after the barest pause, the band started into a racy salsa number. Some hasty dancing of my own got me through the crowd without injury and I fell into orbit around Hunter and my bride-to-be.

“Pardon me,” I said, tapping Hunter on the shoulder. “May I?” He kept dancing. Okay. Time to check out.

“Ella, babe,” I said, hooking her waist with my hand as she twirled by. “I’ve made a few other arrangements and they’re on a schedule. We can box your dinner and take it with us, but we really should be going.”

Hunter looked at me with a calm, arrogant coolness, almost as if I were a piece of rotting meat that he was just good enough
not
to openly disdain. Ella blinked her way out of deep involvement in the dance and looked at me for a moment as if I were a stranger.

“Oh, Nicky. We really need to go?” she asked with that awkward, discreetly begging tone. “We haven’t even had dessert,” she pled. “The dance isn’t over, either. Be a dear and let me finish just one more dance, please?” She batted her eyelashes and did the little pout thing.

I smiled. “You know how much I like Latin dancing,” I said in a low tone. She blushed, and looked rather pained as her eyes swung back and forth between my inviting smile, and Hunter’s commanding frown. In the end, she slowly—almost grudgingly—pulled away from Hunter. I managed not to smirk and bowed even more graciously to him than he had to Ella and watched as he sulked back to where Jamie was looking rather amused.

I smirked at Ella and she blushed crimson, looking guilty rather than flattered. Certain that Hunter would be watching, I swept Ella back into dance position, caught a good starting point in the song, and we were off.

I knew Salsa like I knew Jungian dream metaphors and the few times I caught a glimpse of Hunter, he had this “If only I could shoot lasers from my eyes” expression. Ella, however, was unusually stiff. Her total unresponsiveness made it much more difficult to give a smooth, convincing performance. When it was over, I looked at Ella, hoping to discover at least some of the reason she’d been uptight. Her immediate glance at Mister Neurosurgery Man told me exactly what I wanted to know, which was also exactly what I didn’t want to know. I closed my eyes to conceal my pain and took Ella’s hand to lead her out.

When I opened my eyes, I saw something that froze me in my tracks.

“What… What is it?” Ella asked, suddenly noticing my hesitation.

I instantly averted my gaze to deny Ella the chance to follow it. “Mental lapse, babe. Just something from the lab I suddenly remembered.”

I didn’t mention that the “something from the lab” happened to wearing a jade, silk blouse, a floor-length skirt and an attractive hairdo, and had just walked into the room escorted by a rather dashing looking gentleman with whom I was partially acquainted from classes. I turned my back to the doors.

“Oh, okay,” Ella said.

“Let’s just grab dessert and hit the road,” I said quietly.

She gave me a look of resigned frustration, but humored me anyway. I managed to keep my head down and facing away from the doors as we quickly skirted around the perimeter of the room, taking the long way around to the dessert table. I made some pretense of grabbing a slice of carrot cake, but mostly, I was keeping a discreet eye on Moiré. Ella took her time deciding between a raspberry tart, a lemon chiffon pie and a crème
brûlée.

“Go for the crème
brûlée,” I half whispered to her. “You can’t beat a good crème brûlée.”

“But
, Nicky,” she said, “there’s just so much sugar in those. Isn’t there a sugar free apple pie, or something?”

To my horror, Moiré’s dark-haired date—I suddenly couldn’t remember his name—appeared right next to me. I
made a polite nod, but didn’t even begin to look back to where I was certain Moiré would be watching. My fear was completely irrational, I told myself. So what if Moiré knew I was engaged?
Why
did it keep bugging me? The answer to my question began to surface, but I crushed it deep into the back of my mind before I could even fully form the thought.

“Hey, is that crème
brûlée?” the dark-haired guy asked me.

“Yeah.”

“Wow. They really went all out.” Then I heard him mutter to himself, “Moiré oughta see this,” and he was gesturing for her.

I grabbed all three desserts that Ella had been admiring, took her hand and hurriedly pulled her away from the table. “You can eat them all weekend now,” I said, as I noticed her annoyed expression. But the doors were near and I was reasonably comfortable in thinking Moiré hadn’t spotted me.

“A word with you, Mister Cairn,” someone said suddenly, just to my right.

I looked up into the steely gaze of an older man who’d had too little exercise and too many cream puffs. I squinted at the light bouncing off his scalp and cringed inwardly as I realized exactly who it was.

“Doctor Jordan,” I said nodding respectfully. “I’d love to stop and chat, but Ella and I have a few things on our agenda this evening and we’re on a tight schedule. If you’d please….”

“Mister Cairn,” he said again. I saw his lips move but I could have sworn his voice was coming from his nose. “Your plans can wait. The Department has been reviewing your work and some of the board members are questioning the progress benchmarks you’ve set for yourself. If you will step over here with me for a moment, we can discuss them with some of the other gentlemen.” He gestured at a cluster of men who looked like they had escaped a museum exhibit entitled “Life in The Mid-20
th
Century.”

I hid a grimace. “Sir, it would be an honor, but I’ll have to take a rain check tonight. I’ll e-mail you in the morning and we’ll arrange a more appropriate time to meet.”

“Now is a
perfect
time, Mister Cairn. We are all together and we’ve no other obligations. I think you owe it to the board members to listen to what they have to say. They
are
backing you financially,” he said as if that closed the matter.

It didn’t and the Department’s definition of “financial backing” seemed to be just keeping all
the funding behind their backs instead of where I could get it and use it for actual expenses.

“Respectfully,
sir, we must—”

“Doctor Jordan! Hello,” called a sweet voice that chilled my bones. It was coming from the refreshment table.

“Ah, Miss De Lanthe,” Dr. Jordan replied, more cheery than I’d ever seen him. Ella went unexpectedly rigid and began turning to see who the other woman was.

I seized the distraction to make my escape. I regretted pulling Ella along as roughly as I did (earning me a stain of raspberry tart cream on my white shirt), but I wasn’t about to deal with two confrontations at once. Something in me said I’d have to face them, sooner or later, but I’d rather hit them one at a time and on my own terms.

As we blew through the main doors and into the fresh, night air, Ella stopped in her tracks and spitted me with a glare. “
Thank
you for ruining a perfect evening,” she said coldly.

I hung my head. “Our schedule?” I hoped my instantly-fabricated schedule would deflect her.

“
What
schedule, Nicholas?” she hissed. “You said dinner.
Only
dinner and then you
drag
me away from it like some little mutt on a leash? I am your
fiancée
, not your
pet
.”

I sighed. “You’re right, hon. That really was uncalled for.” I made to kiss her forehead, but she dodged.

“Ugh. You interrupt my dance, you make me leave half my dinner there, you make me look like a pig by grabbing
three
desserts and then you embarrass me in front of
everyone
like that. Do you have
any
idea how much I spent on this dress?”

I had an idea, but said nothing.

“I got this dress for a reason and you just
stole
that reason from me!”

This was a losing battle to begin with. What the heck was wrong with me? Why was I freaking out like some teenage guy afraid he was about to get caught cheating on his gir
lfriend? It made no sense. Now, Ella was mad to boot.

I held my hands up. “Ella, look, I don’t know what happened back there. I think
,” and this was true, even if only half the reason, “I think that I just got a bit... jealous of our neurosurgeon friend.”

Her face softened. “Oh, Nicky. I was just having a good time. It was salsa, right? After all, you remember
our
first Latin dance.” She lightly tickled my ribs.

There was no way I could forget that dance.

Trying to let my words bleed sincerity, I held her gaze and said, “Ella, I love you. You know I love you. I’m… so grateful that you put up with my stupid moments. I mean, why should I worry about Hunter, huh? I even
let
him cut in. It’s not like you’re going to up and leave me for him, just because of one little dance, right? Yeah, no reason to be jealous.”

She giggled, but I thought I detected a faint hint of nervousness.

“So… rather than embarrass you more by taking you back, would you mind if I take you somewhere else and try to make it up to you? End the night well?”

I could still see her anger, but she smiled and her eyes eased up noticeably. She suddenly got playful. “What’d you have in mind, stranger?”

“Oh… a little walk. A little moonlit stream. A little gazing.”

She smiled wider. “Sounds fun. Lead the way.”

I took her hand, gently kissed her cheek and led her off into the night, pretending not to notice her long, backward glance.

CHAPTER NINE

“Mom’s being so unfair, Dad!”

“What’re you talking about, kiddo?”

“All day long—move this, move that. Like I’m some sort of slave labor. Doesn’t she know that I have things
I
want to do, too?”

“Sure she does, Nick. But your mom’s a busy woman too. Sometimes she just needs a bit of help.”

“Well, why isn’t she picking on Greg? He’s just been sitting around all day doing nothing.”

“Greg isn’t strong enough to haul boxes like you are.”

“You’re stronger than all of us put together. Why is she asking me instead of you?”

“Because you
r mother wants it done right.”

The post-dinner evening did actually go fairly well and the roller coaster was back on the top of another hill when I finally kissed Ella goodnight. I slept great and started Saturday well. So well, in fact, that I didn’t even bother looking at my bank account before phoning Ella and asking her if she wanted to catch lunch with me.

“Oh, Nicky, you know I’d love to, normally, but I’ve already got some things scheduled for today. I need to get my nails done so that means a trip to the mall and I’ll probably just eat there before going to the gym, since it’s right across the street. You understand, don’t you?”

I understood, of course, and talked her into a rain check for Sunday. Sunday came and Sunday went and though we spent much of the day together Ella seemed unusually distracted and jittery. She made some excuse about being “so exhausted” that she felt like going to bed around 7:30 so I dropped her off early and with barely a peck on the cheek from her. I didn’t let myself think too much of it. Ella was flighty, that was for certain. The week rolled around and Ella continued to be distracted. It bothered me to the point where I had a hard time focusing on my lab work. I gave Moiré another week off and though she agreed, I could tell she was worried. I didn’t want to upset Moiré at all, but something was definitely off kilter with Ella. She was harder to reach by phone and even Vera commented on Ella’s unusual absence and heightened giddiness the few times I stopped over to see if Ella was at home. As I walked away from Ella’s townhouse, that Thursday, I threw my hands in the air and mimed yelling “Wheeeeee!” as I felt that roller coaster cart free falling down the other side of the mountain. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

What did surprise me was Ella’s phone call early Friday morning. I heard the ring tone I reserved for Ella while showering. I jumped out, barely avoided slipping on the floor and threw a towel around me as I dashed for my bedroom and grabbed the phone.

“Hey, Els. Thanks for calling! I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, hi, Nick.” There was a strange pause. “Um… Nicky?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I... I need your help.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Anything, Els. What do you need?”

She hesitated again and when she resumed her voice was trembling unexpectedly. This couldn’t be good. “I… I need… I need you to help me move.”

I hesitated. “Move… how?”

“Move house, Nicholas. I need you to help me move from my townhouse to a different place this Saturday, okay? My contract ends then and the stupid landlady just called to tell me I needed to get out now.”

What was this about? I was sure her dad was at least part owner. Guess I was wrong. “Well, okay, babe. You know I’m always happy to help you. Do you have a moving truck or something?”

“Of course I don’t have a moving truck, Nicholas! I wouldn’t ask for your help if I already had everything taken care of.”

Wow. Snippy, even for Ella.

She started to cry. “I’m sorry
, Nicky, I didn’t mean to yell at you. This is just…”—she took in a shuddering breath—“just so hard. I didn’t think my landlady was a total witch. I can’t believe she’s just throwing me out on my carefully-shaped glutes like this.”

I coughed on a laugh. I couldn’t help the cartoon-like visual of Ella being hefted out her front door and bouncing repeatedly along the pavement on her tail
-end, eyes shocked. I knew better than to ask
why
Ella was getting tossed; a heated discussion with my fiancée was never on my “to-do” list.

“Nicholas, are you paying attention?”

I coughed again. “Yeah, sorry, love. Okay. Saturday morning, eight a.m. sharp.”

I headed quickly to the lab to see if I could still salvage something from a neglected week. The lab hummed with its usual noise and I forced myself into my rhythm. Check editorial notes; make corrections; proofread another section; make more red marks; crosscheck bibliographic references; etc. By noon, I was still considerably behind, but I was making up lost ground quickly and I was pleased at how well I was able to focus once again.

“Doctor Cairn?”

I looked up into Moiré’s eyes and my mind blanked. So much for my momentum.

“Are you okay, Doctor Cairn?” Moiré was unusually reserved.

I sucked in a breath and rose. “Yeah. Um… you surprised me was all. Is everything all right? You seem a bit… troubled.”

Moiré glanced away and licked her lips. She leaned in close and whispered, “Can we talk somewhere privately, maybe?”

I nodded, saved my work and logged off. Moiré was already in the hall by the time I finished and as soon as I stepped through the door, she turned away and walked briskly down the hall. I caught up quickly, but said nothing. We left the psychology building and went to the trail on the south side of campus; always a good place to talk. When she was ready, she started.

“Have I… done something wrong, Doctor…
.”

“Hey, it’s Nick.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ve… just been thinking. I know I said I’d be as professional as the job demands and I recognize that I haven’t always been the poster child of professional psychology. I… thought you were okay with that until you told me you didn’t need me a second week in a row.”

That’s what this was about? Oh, boy.

Moiré stopped and held my gaze. Her mouth, her eyes—they spoke of a sadness I hadn’t seen in her. “I know you’re a kind, sensitive guy, Nick. I know you wouldn’t want to offend me by just firing me. But if you really need to let me go, I understand. I haven’t lived up to what I said I’d do. But if there’s a way you’d give me another chance, I promise I really will be one-hundred-percent professional.”

I peered at her, trying to read her face some more. “Moiré… wow. I am
so
sorry I haven’t explained myself better.” I sighed. “Let’s cut to the chase. I want you.”

Moiré jerked back and I slapped a hand over my face.

“Doctor Cairn, I’m flattered, but….”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Moiré. Gah. I mean, I want to keep you as my research assistant. As in the opposite of ‘I don’t want you.’ The last two weeks have had some unusual stresses pop up in my personal life. I won’t be a hypocrite and violate the Researcher’s Code by boring you with details, but let’s just say that some things have been… a bit… well, questionable. All that stuff has been on my mind way more than I thought it would and I haven’t really been able to get my head around it until this morning. I reasoned that If I wasn’t even able to direct my own work, I’d probably end up sending you wandering in circles. I didn’t want to waste your time. I know you’ve got a life and classes and friends and probably dates every night…
.”

“You really think I go out every night?”

I paused mid-word. “I just assumed that… um… I don’t think about it.” That was true. I actively avoided thinking about just how close some guy was getting to putting a ring on her finger. “Remember you said you wouldn’t tell me and I wouldn’t ask?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway,” I continued, “the point is, I was busy; I didn’t have anything to reasonably occupy your time, so I figured I’d just pay you out of fairness and then when I got my own house in order,” or, in this case, Ella’s house, “we’d get back in gear and try to make up for lost time. Does that ease your worries?”

Moiré surprised me by leaning her head on my chest and putting a hand on my shoulder. I was too stunned to move. “Yes, Nick. Yes, it does quite a bit to help. But tell me, have I been too flippant?”

I shook my head. “No, no, Moiré. Believe me, if you keep working like you have, I’d go before the board of directors and personally recommend you for scholarships or jobs or whatever. You’re an incredible research assistant. In fact, just last week, I kept wondering how I’d gotten by without you.

“As for your humor…
.”

She looked up quickly. “My humor?”

I smiled. “It’s great. Doctors need to prescribe a big dose of ‘funny’ more often than they do. You know: laughter is the best medicine?”

She smiled. “You mean that?”

“I swear on The Chair.”

She laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, then, maybe I don’t need these after all.” She began digging in her purse. I was now curious. Moiré fished out a pair of tickets and handed them to me. I examined them—they were for a local place that did Old West-style dinner shows.

“Know anyone who likes westerns?” she asked. “I was going to suggest we do some research at this place. An olive branch in case I had seriously offended you. Maybe it borders on groveling, but I’d really rather not put ‘Was fired by a grad student’ on a future résumé.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And you thought cowboys and Indians would overturn that kind of a verdict?”

Moiré shrugged. “Just shooting in the dark. I’ll be honest—a friend of mine used to work there and she got them for me. I thought of you.”

I blinked, surprised at how much it moved me to know that she’d think of me like that. I was flattered to know that she was finding ways to further my research even when she thought she was on the rocks in my book. I made to accept, but froze. This was going to be her and me at dinner. Again. My mind jerked unbidden back to our time at the Italian place and suddenly the taste of bittersweet filled me. That… not-date… had been so enjoyable that I wanted to do it again and again. I knew where that kind of thing led, though and I refused to go down that path. I needed an escape. I scanned the tickets again. Ah! They were for this Saturday.

“Oh, sorry, Moiré. I’ve actually got something calendared for this Saturday.”

She looked positively crestfallen, to my surprise. “Oh. That’s okay. I know I sprang this on you last minute, so I can’t expect you to just drop
everything for me.” She perked up quickly. “Besides, you know that if we did research there I’d find a way to get you in leather and a lasso before the night was over.”

I blinked. “Oh, right. Cowboy attire.”

Moiré looked at me and then laughed. “You know, Nick. I always figured you were a straight-laced guy, but I guess you’re still a guy. I won’t even ask what you thought I meant by that.

“But I should get going. I’ll probably just grab one of my roommates and take her with me. Carla might like a show like this and I’m going to be gone myself most of Saturday. I’ll just take her shopping or something and we’ll have a girls’ day out.” With that, she smiled and waved and started off down the trail.

My heart raced as I watched her go. Could I really let this kind of an opportunity pass? It was a dinner show—we’d be occupied watching the stage and the couples, not each other. It was a public place. But then, so was the Italian joint. We could sit at separate booths and get a better perspective on things, just like we did at the park. Yeah, that’s it. We didn’t even have to sit together. In fact, dinner shows might help people relax a bit better than just dinner itself; you don’t have to carry strained conversations through awkward silences. I hadn’t actually done any dinner show observations yet. This might be a good way to round out….

Just do it, Nick
, said the voice in my head. “Moiré! Hey, Moiré!” I jogged to catch up. She stopped and turned, inquisitive.

“Hey, what time was that dinner show? I mean, evening, I know, but, specifically?”

Moiré looked at the tickets. “She got me the nine-o-clock show. That one usually isn’t as crowded, so it was easier to get free tickets.”

“Nine-o-clock? Okay, my event starts in the morning and I should be done before then. How about we just drive separately and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Moiré’s smile lit as large as I’d ever seen it. “That’s great, Nick! I’ll see you there, then.”

“Yeah. Saturday. I’ll show up ten minutes early.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“Yeah. It’s… Wait. No..
..”

She winked at me. “Just yanking your chain, Doctor Cairn. I know the Code, don’t worry.”

My heart raced and I bid her farewell a second time. Realizing that I wasn’t likely to get anything productive done at the lab, I figured it was best to just go home and try catching up on some sleep. I’d need my energy for the move.